


A Kind of Magic (A Solstice Story)

by FrankenSpine



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Celebrations, Eventual Relationships, F/F, Hope, Loneliness, Magic, Sad, The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), True Love, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: As the Winter Solstice nears, the lonely, bitter Queen encounters an equally-lonely yet remarkably hopeful girl named Emma who lives in an orphanage close to the palace. Before long, the Queen finds that her icy heart has begun to melt, and her life changes forever.Eventual SwanQueen.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 118





	A Kind of Magic (A Solstice Story)

**Author's Note:**

> I was just going to call this 'Solstice' but then I was listening to 'A Kind of Magic' by Queen and decided that was a fitting song to go with this story, so I changed it.

The Queen stepped out onto the terrace, observing the village below with an unreadable expression. Anger burned within her as she watched the peasants dance and laugh in sickening joy while they prepared for the coming Solstice. It was dark out. There was a thick blanket of frost covering her kingdom, and she loathed it, for it reminded her of her most bitter rival.

 _‘What is so special about the Winter Solstice?’_ she wondered, _‘What is there to celebrate? It is cold, wet, and brings nothing but death and discomfort.’_

Of course, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the importance of making sacrifices to the Gods, but no human should be the one to die for such a cause.

 _‘Leave that fate to whatever livestock the villagers can spare,’_ she thought.

She had to admit that the village did seem rather beautiful, being lit up the way it was. Torches and candles flickered, their flames dancing as erratically at the villagers. It was amusing enough to bring a faint smile to her lips, though it swiftly vanished and was replaced with a frown.

“Perhaps I should go and observe this— this _merriment,”_ she said in mild disgust.

And so, with just a touch of magic, she rid herself of her makeup and extravagant clothing, donning the dull, tattered rags of a peasant woman, along with an old cloak, and she appeared at the edge of the village, just beyond the veil of darkness. She pulled up her hood and tentatively walked through the lively town, taking in the sights, the sounds, and most importantly, the _scents._

She hadn’t noticed it from the palace, but here, she was overwhelmed by the smell of fresh bread, piping-hot pastries and pies, and an assortment of various meats. Her stomach demanded she partake in a grand feast, but she continued on until she noticed a small frozen pond nearby. She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but there was something about it that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Upon reaching the edge of the pond, she discovered a young girl struggling to hang what looked like an ornament of some sort from a particularly-long branch on a tall evergreen.

“Hello,” the Queen said, feeling mildly uncomfortable, “What are you doing out here on your own? Don’t you wish to take part in the celebration?”

The girl offered a faint smile. “I _am_ taking part,” she said, “I just came out here because no one would help me hang my ornament on the Solstice Tree, so I decided to put it on this one instead.” She seemed saddened by this, but was trying to remain positive. “Do you think you could help me? I can’t reach the branch.”

“What? Oh. Right, of course,” said the Queen.

She carefully hung the girl’s ornament on the branch. It was a crude attempt at making a swan out of folded parchment, but considering it was made by a child, the Queen found it endearing.

“I must admit, I’ve never taken part in the Solstice celebrations.”

The girl was in shock. “Never?”

“Never.”

“How come?”

“My mother never would allow such a thing. She was, shall we say, _controlling,_ and of course, she was never open to letting me try different things. She would only allow me to do what _she_ wanted.” The Queen shook her head. “But let’s not dwell on that. What’s your name, girl?”

“Emma.”

“You said no one would help you put your ornament on the Solstice Tree. What about your parents?”

Emma’s smile fell, and suddenly she seemed upset. “I— I don’t have any,” she said, “I’m an orphan.”

The Queen felt her heart crack upon hearing this. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she truly meant it, “How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Well, Emma, would you mind telling me more about the Solstice?”

This seemed to bring the light back into the young girl’s eyes, and a smile onto her lips once more, just as the Queen hoped it would.

“It’s about music and dancing, celebrating the winter and being together,” said Emma, “but I guess I’m not doing it right since I don’t have a family to spend it with.”

“Well, you could spend it with me,” Regina told her after a beat.

“Really?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Do you have an ornament?”

“No, but I suppose I could always make one.”

The Queen held out her hand, and in it, a small silver pendant in the shape of an apple appeared. Emma gaped at her, mesmerized.

“How did you do that?”

The Queen smiled. “Magic,” she said simply as she went to hang her ornament on the tree next to Emma’s. “There. Now we have our own Solstice Tree.”

“Wow, I guess you’re right. You’re really nice,” said Emma.

In that very moment, the Queen felt the ice around her heart begin to melt, and she smiled.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “Oh, and Emma?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a sweet girl with a good head on your shoulders. I don’t think it will be much longer before a nice couple comes along and welcomes you as their own daughter.”

Emma’s eyes gleamed with hope. “You think so?”

“It doesn’t matter what _I_ think. All that matters is what you feel in your heart, my dear.”

Emma’s smile grew wide, and she took hold of the Queen’s hand, stunning the woman. “You should be a priestess,” she said, “You’ve got a lot of wisdom, um, what was your name?”

The Queen tensed, debating whether or not she should give her true name. “You can call me Gina,” she said.

This seemed to appease the girl.

“Alright,” said Emma, “I like you, Gina.”

The Queen smiled. “I like you, too.”

And so, the Queen and her young companion spent the evening together by the frozen pond, staring up at the stars.

“You know, Emma, some say that stars are the souls of our ancestors watching over us from the Heavens.”

Emma’s eyes were full of wonder. _“Wow,”_ she whispered.

As the Queen saw the joy that lit up the girl’s face, she knew her entire world had just changed forever. There was no need for her to be bitter. Not on this night, anyway.

Upon returning to her palace, the Queen was different. She started smiling more, and the servants noticed. She no longer bore a perpetual scowl. It was as though she was a completely different person. Even her outfits changed. They no longer appeared so evil or frightening, though she still refused to wear white.

Ten years passed, yet the Queen didn’t seem to age a day. Each Solstice, she made her way into the nearby village, not in disguise, but in all her regal glory, and she walked to the frozen pond to look for her young friend, hoping to thank the girl who had melted her icy heart. Alas, Emma was never there.

One day, however, during the eleventh year, as the Queen made her annual trek to the village to celebrate with the locals, she encountered a beautiful young woman with a head of gold walking— or rather, storming— out of the tavern with a mask of pure rage and angry tears streaking her pale face.

The Queen saw this and was genuinely concerned. “Are you alright, Miss?” she asked.

The young woman promptly wiped her eyes, not yet looking up at the Queen. “Don’t worry about it,” she said bitterly, “It’s nobody’s business but my own.”

The Queen pursed her lips. “Apologies. I was only trying to help.”

The blonde let out a heavy sigh. “Look, lady, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just—” She gasped when she finally saw who it was that she was speaking to. “It’s _you,”_ she whispered.

“Yes, I suppose it must be shocking, seeing the Queen out of her palace.”

“N-No, I mean— well, yes, but you’re— you’re _her.”_

“I beg your pardon?”

 _“Gina,”_ the blonde rasped. Her eyes grew wide in realization. “Gods, how didn’t I figure it out sooner? Gina,” she said again, “as in _Queen Regina.”_

So, too, did the Queen’s eyes widen. “Emma,” she murmured, “Oh, it’s been so long. I came down to the pond each year to look for you, but you were never there. What happened?”

Emma’s features became grim, and she folded her arms. “I was adopted,” she said quietly.

“I should congratulate you, but I sense you aren’t so jovial about it.”

“Yes, well,” Emma paused, “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Regina nodded. “Of course.” She smiled. “I know just the place.”

Soon, they found themselves back at the pond, right where they had met all those years ago. Lo and behold, the ornaments they had hung in the branch were still there.

“So,” said Regina, “what were you going to tell me?”

Emma sighed. “I was adopted just a few weeks after we met,” she explained, “It was an older couple, but they already had children of their own. They just needed someone to do slave labor, but since slavery is outlawed, they decided to force a child to be their servant instead. That’s how I’ve spent the last ten years.” As she spoke, her tone became angrier and much more spiteful. “I was never allowed to come out here. Too busy being a slave, you know. I used to celebrate the Solstice in secret, but none of my wishes ever came true, so I just sort of gave up hope.”

Regina felt as though she had just been stabbed in the heart. The sorrow in her eyes swiftly turned to fury.

“Tell me their names,” she said.

Emma shook her head. “What’s the point? They’re both dead now. That’s the only reason I’m here and not off chopping wood or being used as a footstool.”

_“What?”_

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter now. It’s never going to happen again— and now none of the men in the tavern will touch me again, either.”

“You’re a tavern girl?”

“I was,” Emma muttered, “until just a few minutes ago. Some drunkard tried to feel me up so I slapped him, and then the barkeep forced me out the door. I need to find a new job, otherwise I’ll starve.”

“Come with me,” Regina told her, taking hold of her hand.

Emma looked conflicted. “What? Where?”

“To the palace, of course.”

Emma frowned. “Why, so you can make me your slave, too?”

“Nonsense. I detest slavery.”

The blonde’s face softened a bit, though she still seemed reluctant. “Then what would you have me do?”

“What do you _want_ to do, Emma?” the Queen asked her.

“Well, um, I’ve always wanted to learn how to read.”

“You can’t read?”

The Queen’s tone was not judgmental, but rather, hurt. Emma took offense anyhow.

“Forgive me for not having a _royal education._ I know some words, but the Slaveowners never allowed me to read or write. They told me I didn’t deserve the privilege.”

“I meant no offense, Emma,” said Regina, “I could teach you, if you like.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “You really mean that?”

Regina offered a warm smile. “Absolutely,” she said, “and I know just the thing for you.”

Before she knew it, Emma found herself standing in the palace library alongside the gracious Queen. She was mesmerized, having never seen so many books, and of course, having never set foot in the palace before. Her eyes welled with tears as she struggled to find words.

“It’s— It’s— _Gods,_ it’s incredible,” she rasped.

“Don’t cry, Emma. I want to offer you a job here,” said the Queen.

“Here?” Emma asked, stunned.

Regina nodded.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Being the librarian, of course. It’s a simple job, really. People come in, request a book, and you find it for them— and in the meantime, it will provide you plenty of time to learn how to read.”

“Gods above,” Emma whispered. She threw her arms around Regina, not stopping to think about her actions. “Thank you, Gina, I—” she gasped when she realized what she had done and swiftly pulled away, hanging her head in shame, “I mean, _Your Majesty._ I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing. I just—”

She was cut off as the Queen pressed a finger to her lips. She was puzzled by the soft smile that graced the brunette’s painted lips.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve known me as Gina all this time, and so that is how it shall stay. You are my greatest friend, Emma. It was you who showed me the true meaning of the Solstice. You gave me hope, and now I’m going to return the favor. I can’t undo what’s already been done, but I can certainly try to brighten your future.”

“How can I ever repay you?”

“You won’t need to,” said the Queen, “This is me repaying _you.”_

* * *

Life went on, and within the span of a year, Emma had regained the light in her eyes and was smiling more and more with every passing day. She knew how to read, and was actively working on her writing skills, having a newfound desire to be a poet. She loved working in the library. It felt like so much more than a job. It was like a dream come true— and of course, everything changed when she began having dinner with the Queen each night.

Then one evening, when they’d both had one too many cups of wine, they found themselves growing closer and closer until their lips met, and although it stunned them, it was a nice feeling— a wondrous feeling— so they did it a second time. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, and so on.

That was the night Emma and Regina first made love.

And now, as the Winter Solstice drew near once again, Emma found herself wrapped up in Regina’s arms as they lied together in the Queen’s bed. The fire burned within the mantel, dancing wildly and making their sweat-laced bodies glisten beautifully.

“Gina?” Emma murmured.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” asked the Queen.

“What do you think?” Emma asked playfully, “I mean everything. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.”

Regina smiled. “I was merely returning the favor.”

“Well, you really went above and beyond,” Emma said with a chuckle. She let out a soft sigh of bliss. “I love you, Regina.”

The Queen’s eyes lit up with awe. “I was beginning to think I would never hear you utter those words. I love you, too, Emma Swan.”

Emma was visibly confused. “Swan? Where did _that_ come from?”

“I hope you don’t mind. I just thought it fitting, for swans are as beautiful as they are powerful, and of course, they all belong to the Queen.”

“I don’t belong to you, Regina. I’m not a slave.”

“Darling, that isn’t what I mean.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I mean your heart belongs to me, as mine belongs to you,” Regina murmured, “We are equals, you and I, and I would like to let the kingdom know that as well.” She conjured up a silver ring, and presented it to Emma. “Emma Swan,” she whispered, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears welled in Emma’s eyes. “Yes,” she breathed, “Yes I will.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she watched the Queen slip the ring onto her finger. “Gods, I love you.”

“And I you, my darling.”

“Does this mean I can’t work in the library anymore?”

“Of course not. You’ll be the Queen. You can do whatever you desire.”

Emma laughed. “Well, right now, all I desire is to sleep here beside you, and wake up with you when the sun rises. Then we can have breakfast together, and I can read you my latest poem.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Regina.

“No,” Emma told her, “It will be _perfect.”_

And it was.

Emma stayed true to word and recited her new poem the following morning.

“For the longest time, my life was dark and tragic, but now you’ve brought me out of the shadows and into the light with a strange yet wonderful kind of magic. I never thought I would be free of that prison, or the misery within, and yet, here I stand beside you, the Queen, and I know I’ll never go back to that life again. What you have done for me, I can never repay, but I will do my absolute best, and hope I live to see another day.” Tears streaked Emma’s face as she read her poem. “I love you, Regina, with all my heart.”


End file.
